


Give Me, One More Night

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: Writers Month: August 2019 [3]
Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Airports, Coffee Shop, Connections, Flying, Insults, M/M, Sexual Tension, Stress, Teasing, hand holding, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 04:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20091640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Overworked and dishelved, Maverick is sure his mind is playing tricks on him when a certainfrenemywaltzes back into his life. And wants to fuck him.Writersmonth Day 3 Prompt:Coffee shop





	Give Me, One More Night

**Reagan National Airport: 1992**

Maverick was awaiting his connection back to San Diego, carry-ons in hand, Black coffee in the other. He took a seat, with a thud, and ran a hand through his hair.

He was shattered, dark circles heavily pronounced under his green eyes. He closed them, if only for a moment, then shook his head, fighting to stay awake.

He took a sip from his plastic cup and winced at the heat, burning his tongue. Maverick fumbled with his bag, hunting for the flight evaluation for the F-5 that he needed to tend too on his flight.

He began skimming through the folder, page after page or pointless improvements and all the impracticalities that he still didn’t support.

With a huff, he banged his fist on the table and swept the folder off of the edge. He held his head in one hand and yawned. He almost missed the voice yelling to him.

“Jesus Christ, watch what the hell you are—_Maverick_?”

He jumped about a foot in the air. He rubbed at his eyes, squinted, shook his head and his eyes fell back into his lap.

Maverick knew that voice anywhere.

“Maverick. Still up for causing a scene, huh?” The tone was teasing.

_Kazansky. Fricking Tom Kazansky._

Maverick shook his head in disbelief, “Holy shit.. I’ve finally lost it.”

“Nope you retard, it’s really me. I can be in the same coffee place as you y’know.”

_The Ice cold prick._

Maverick focused his gaze on the lean figure. He was in his uniform, decked out like a damn Christmas tree. Maverick watched as he dragged himself a chair, sat opposite and stared at him.

“Let me guess Mitchell, San Diego, 23:30.”

“Fuck.. and you’ll be right there with me, won’t you Kazansky?”

Iceman grinned a huge, predatory grin.

“Count on it. But don’t freak out, it doesn’t mean that I’ll be sat anywhere near you.”

“Lucky me.” Maverick groaned.

“Mitchell” His voice dropped low, “you look like shit. What the hell happened.”

Maverick hesitated, “Just overworked. Too much travelling.”

“Yeah? Were you at the Pentagon or something? What idiot let you represent them?”

“_Me_.”

Iceman’s eye’s widened.

“You.. you’ve been promoted?”

“Yup Kazansky. It was bound to happen at some point.”

“Well, congratulations _Commander_ Mitchell.”

Maverick broke into a small smile. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“_No_.” Iceman said quickly, then he took a sip of his drink.

They had fallen into silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable as such but Kazansky was just staring at him. Staring and staring. His hazel eyes dark and piercing, backlit by the dim of a bright amber light.

“Mitchell. Why are you doing this to yourself? You look awful.”

“_Fuck you_, Kazansky.”

Iceman’s eyebrows rose, he was momentarily stunned at the vehemence in Maverick’s words.

Iceman, ever the suave one, leant in closer, laid a hand atop Maverick’s on the table and licked his lips. They parted.

“The gate closes in 45 minutes.”

“Think you can last 40 minutes with me, _Ice_—“ He leant forward to brush Kazansky’s shoulder, “—_man_?”

Iceman eyes followed his movements. He grinned a wolffish smile.

“You know it Mitchell.”

His hand was still atop Mavericks. His eyes planted firmly on Maverick’s tired face. He cracked a smile and Maverick reciprocated with a wink.

The coffee was discarded.


End file.
